


butterfly (every time i come close)

by thunderylee



Category: KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band)
Genre: Canon Universe, Crossdressing, Fluff, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-10-12
Updated: 2009-10-12
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:04:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12675891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: Yamapi likes classy women. Meisa brings out Jin’s class.





	butterfly (every time i come close)

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for jerainbowbridge 2009.

“So is it true?” Koki jumps on him the minute he walks into work, much like an overexcited puppy. “Is Pi really banging a half-breed?”

Jin thinks about smacking him in the back of the head, purely on principle, but Kame gets there first. “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kame says without turning away from the mirror. “Everyone knows that Yamapi’s type is ‘Made in Japan’ only.”

“Yeah,” agrees Junno, who jerks on the couch with his full attention on his DS. “If you want equal opportunity, go to Jin.”

“If you have a _hole_ , go to Taguchi,” Jin shoots back, smirking when Kame and Koki both stifle laughs.

Junno just smiles, then turns to Koki. “You should talk, _porn star_ -san.”

“Hey,” Koki says with a casual shrug. “I’m not ashamed.”

“ _Clearly_ ,” chimes in Ueda, chuckling as he aimlessly strums his guitar. “Why do we care where Yamashita sticks it again?”

“We don’t,” Nakamaru inputs from behind his textbook. “Except maybe Akanishi.”

Kame and Koki snicker again, and Jin almost narrows his eyes at them until he remembers who initiated it. “What is that supposed to mean, Nose?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Nakamaru delivers in a monotone voice. “Why are you so defensive?”

“I am not defensive,” Jin huffs.

Kame pats him on the shoulder. “You’re defensive.”

Frowning, Jin folds his arms in front of his stomach, ignoring the tiny twist he feels inside. “It’s just a rumor anyway. He’s not dating anyone right now.”

“Damn,” Koki says, his face falling. “That would have been _pimp_.”

Jin doesn’t deem that worthy of a response.

*

“What’s eating you?” Yamapi asks suddenly over dinner.

Jin almost drops the pizza on his lap. “What makes you think something’s eating me?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Yamapi starts off, an air of sarcasm in his voice. “Maybe the fact that we’re watching a comedy show and you haven’t cracked a smile yet.”

“Maybe I don’t think they’re funny,” Jin retorts.

Yamapi snatches his slice. “ _Maybe_ something’s eating you.”

“Hey!” Jin reaches for his pizza, but Yamapi’s holding it out of reach. “Fine, I’ll just get another piece.”

A deflated sigh sounds from Yamapi as he grabs the whole pizza box and places it to the side. He rolls his eyes at the pissed-off face Jin makes. “Don’t make me use _the force_ , Jin.”

Now Jin laughs. “The _force_?”

His answer comes in the form of two hands on his collarbone, poking and tickling until he’s screaming at the top of his lungs in a very embarrassingly high pitch. “Pi! Stop!”

He ends up on his back in front of the couch, Yamapi falling right on top of him. His weight is enough to knock the wind out of him, which Yamapi takes advantage of and pins both of Jin’s wrists above his head. “Out with it.”

“If you had a girlfriend, you’d tell me, right?” Jin asks in a rush of breath, his eyes wide as he calms down from the surprise attack. “I mean, not that I don’t want you to have one, but-”

“Jin,” Yamapi interrupts, pausing to let go of Jin’s wrists and sit back on his heels. “Is this about Seira-chan?”

Jin swallows. “Yes?”

“Idiot,” Yamapi says fondly, giving Jin a playful punch to the shoulder. “We’re just friends.”

Jin’s kind of glad that Yamapi’s practically sitting on his chest, otherwise his sigh of relief would be much more noticeable. “Right, okay. Yeah, I figured.”

Yamapi offers a smile and ruffles Jin’s hair before scooting back onto the couch and helping Jin up. “Of course I would tell you. Don’t be stupid.”

Another punch line sounds from the TV, but neither of them laughs.

“Sorry,” Jin mumbles.

Yamapi’s forgiveness comes by returning the food. “Seira-chan’s not my type anyway.”

“Oh?” Jin replies, squirming as the discomfort in his belly starts up again. “Because she’s not full Japanese?”

“That doesn’t have anything to do with it.” Yamapi leans back and stares off in the distance, the comedy show forgotten. “She’s no different than the others. Yuu and Keiko and Maki. They’re all just… _girls_.”

Jin’s eyebrows rise as far as possible. “Are you saying that-”

“I want a _woman_ ,” Yamapi declares. “I’m done with the games and casual flings. I want something _real_.”

“Real,” Jin repeats.

“No offense, but I wouldn’t expect you to understand.” Yamapi smiles sympathetically. “You aren’t exactly _serious_ about relationships.”

Jin scoffs. “I could be serious.”

“Jin,” Yamapi says knowingly. “What was the girl’s name whom you posed with in An-An?”

Jin just rolls his eyes. “Do you remember the name of yours?”

“Katerina,” Yamapi replies without missing a beat. “She was nineteen, the daughter of a restaurant owner, and wanted to be a teacher.”

Frustrated, Jin exhales through his nose. “So what? You just have a better memory than me.”

Yamapi stares at him. “ _Mine_ wasn’t wrapped up in my sheets the next morning.”

Jin meets his eyes for a fraction of a second, then looks down at the pizza that’s growing cold from his negligence. “I could be serious,” he says again.

Yamapi just laughs. “It’s okay, Jin. We’re two different people. Hey, did you want to go out with Seira-chan? I could see if she’s interested.”

“ _No_ ,” Jin responds, a little too harshly. “I mean, I’m not really interested in girls anymore either.”

Yamapi seems to accept that, oblivious to how the reality of those words are crashing down on Jin.

*

Jin walks into the dimly-lit bar and wonders what Kame’s up to this time; he never calls Jin out unless it’s important.

He finds out when Kame’s not the only one waiting for him. The heathen is there, the one Jin only knows of through most of his friends. Her reputation definitely precedes her – she looks even more gorgeous in person, waves of dark hair framing her face as she glances up at him through long lashes.

“Kuroki Meisa,” she introduces herself, although there’s really no need. “Let’s get to the point.”

Distractedly, Jin waves away the menu he’s offered. “Okay?”

“Kame tells me you’re lovesick,” she states, so quickly that it takes Jin a second to catch up.

“What? I’m not-” he starts.

Kame holds up a hand, cutting him off. “You are.”

“I am?” Now Jin’s beginning to question himself. “But for whom?”

“If I understand this right,” Meisa says slowly, folding her hands on the table and licking her lips before raising her eyes to Jin once again. “You love Yamashita but Yamashita loves girls.”

“Not _girls_ ,” Jin corrects. “ _Women_.”

A beat passes, and Jin wonders if he chose the wrong point to focus on.

“Either way,” Meisa says briskly, “you are not one.”

He can’t argue with that. He can, however, wonder what the hell is going on, conveying that exact thought in a helpless look directed at Kame.

Kame smiles sympathetically in return. “I can’t do this alone.”

“Do… _what_?” Jin asks skeptically. He looks from Kame to Meisa and back, sitting back in his seat at the identical smirks forming on their faces. “What are you two plotting?”

“Yamashita wants a _woman_ ,” Meisa explains slowly, like she’s speaking to a little kid. “So we’ll give him one.”

“With one obvious difference,” Kame adds, unhelpfully.

“I…” Jin begins, then purses his lips in thought. “I already _know_ how to do that. I’ve-”

“No,” Meisa cuts him off, shaking her head. “No, no, no. Please tell me you don’t think that’s how a woman should look.”

Jin thinks back to his junior days and his Yuukan Club role. He was pretty convincing, if he did say so himself. Which apparently he did. “Huh?”

“ _Honey_ ,” Meisa says firmly, reaching across the table to grab onto his hands. “Let me help you.”

Once again Jin looks at Kame, but this time Kame just shrugs. It figures; Kame wouldn’t know the first thing about ‘real women’.

When Jin doesn’t respond, Kame claps his hands together and turns to Meisa with a little bow of his head. “I’ll leave him to you, then. Thanks a lot.”

“Anything for you,” Meisa replies with a wink, and Kame gets a little red around the collar as he takes his leave. Meisa watches him go, then turns back to Jin. “Do you trust me?”

“Um,” Jin replies. “Not really.”

She giggles, reducing the tense atmosphere considerably. “Okay, let me try a different approach. Do you love him?”

Jin considers looking insulted, but he’s really not that good of an actor. “Yeah,” he says, and he feels a million times lighter just admitting it.

Meisa smiles warmly. “Can you do this for him?”

He doesn’t even have to think about this one. “Yeah.”

“Good,” she replies. “Let’s get to work.”

*

It should feel unnatural, and it kind of does a bit, but then Jin looks in the mirror and it all comes together. Meisa has spent all day _primping_ with him – although he suspects it was just an excuse to get her hair and nails done as well – and now the finished product is reflected back at him.

She doesn’t look like him, but she _is_ him. Right down to her red-strapped geta sandals. They’d opted for a traditional look, if only because Jin’s always loved one particular kimono of his mother’s. Even as a little boy, he’d been entranced by it and thought that she was the most beautiful woman in the world when she wore it. Dark red with swirls of even darker burgundy, a few flowers splashed sporadically, it was perfect for the beginning of autumn.

There was just enough extra length to account for his height, a butterfly obi of gold with hints of red to complete the ensemble. Jin gasps at the sight, a delayed reaction that has the girl in the mirror bringing a manicured hand up to her glossy lips.

Jin’s glossy lips.

“You kind of make me want to go the other way,” Meisa comments from where she’s perched on the edge of his bed, sounding like she’s a million miles away.

The girl in the mirror rolls her perfectly shadowed and lined eyes, her long lashes sparkling in the light. “You’re ruining my initiation.”

Meisa makes an exasperated noise and stands beside Jin, scrutinizing the pair of them together. She makes him look _big_ – not fat, exactly, but Jin is by nature a _man_ and has masculine features like broad shoulders and a large frame. His face looks feminine, though, especially when he frowns.

“Don’t stand next to me,” he says quietly.

Meisa’s eyes widen and she seems to get it, that this isn’t just Jin dressing up like a girl, and she moves to the side, presumably coming to terms with the reality of what’s happening much like Jin is.

Once she’s out of the reflection, Jin pays her no mind. His bangs fall in messy wisps around his face, the strands that are too short to fit in the bun in the back of his head. He’ll end up taking it down, he’s sure, but for now he can be authentic. Besides, he thinks the little wisps are cute, and it gives him something to curl around his finger when he’s nervous.

A habit of hers, apparently. Jin’s quickly learning everything there is to know about this girl, this _woman_ who’s been hiding inside him all of this time. She’s beautiful, Jin thinks, if not a little lost.

“What’s her name?” Meisa asks, and it’s a serious question.

“[Jinnifer](http://i568.photobucket.com/albums/ss122/misskil/fanart/Crys.jpg),” he replies automatically, speaking in that low, quiet voice again. _Her_ voice.

Meisa shifts, a little nervously, but Jin pays her no attention. He can’t take his eyes off of himself, off of _her_ , and suddenly he feels nervous. Very, very anxious. He glances around the room, towards the window where the incoming breeze is making the curtains billow, and to Meisa who’s wide-eyed with confusion.

“Wha-?” she starts, then realization dawns on her face as the front door opens and closes.

“Jin?”

Jin covers his mouth, barely catching the involuntary squeak before it gives him away. He gives Meisa big eyes, shaking his head helplessly, honestly scared.

Biting her lip, Meisa spends a second flailing her wrists before hopping up and running into the main room. “Yamashita-san!” she greets overenthusiastically. “What a nice surprise.”

“Kuroki-san,” Yamapi replies, sounding bewildered. Jin can’t see him from where he’s kneeling behind the chair. “Where’s Jin?”

“He had to run out,” Meisa fibs, as natural as ever. “We’re on a date.”

Jin can imagine Yamapi’s skeptical expression. “He had to run out in the middle of a date? Whatever for?”

“Condoms,” Meisa answers promptly.

“His car is here,” Yamapi says, his voice stern. “What’s going on?”

Meisa huffs. “Don’t you people call each other before you come over?”

Her voice is getting closer, as are the footsteps leading towards his bedroom. Jin closes his eyes, like if he can’t see it then it doesn’t exist, and he hugs the leg to his desk as he hears fate open the door.

Silence. Jin knows he’s there, can feel his eyes on him. Maybe he won’t recognize him, Jin cheats himself into thinking. Maybe Yamapi would believe that Jin’s on a date with _two_ girls. Anyone in KAT-TUN would, any of their friends even.

But this isn’t them; it’s Yamapi. Yamapi who is wearing an indescribable look when Jin’s impatience wins out and he peeks open an eye. Yamapi’s just standing there, balancing with one hand flat on Jin’s bed like he had caught himself from falling over. He looks good flustered, Jin notices, or maybe he’s just admitting it now.

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out and he ends up just pursing his lips together and sucking the bottom one into his mouth. _His_ habit.

A soft thud sounds as Yamapi’s knees hit the floor, and Jin’s not entirely sure it was voluntary as Yamapi stares at him unblinkingly. “Jin?”

“You don’t recognize me?” Jin asks, his voice almost nonexistent. It’s not what he wanted to say, though. It’s what _she_ wanted to say.

“Stupid,” Yamapi hisses. “I’d recognize you anywhere, even under a pound of makeup.”

“It’s not that much,” Jin says defensively, followed by a pout.

“Don-don’t do that,” Yamapi says quickly, and Jin tilts his head in confusion. “I’m weak to girl pouts.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jin sees Meisa smile in the doorway. Then Yamapi’s face takes on this expression like he doesn’t know whether to crack up laughing or shake his head in exasperation (typical Jin). He ends up doing a little of both, and Jin’s pretty sure the tension in his stomach is threatening to burst out.

“What is this?” Yamapi asks. It’s a simple question with no malice or anger.

_You said you wanted a ‘real’ woman_ is on the tip of his tongue, but Jin bites it back in favor of something better. “I told you I can be serious.”

Yamapi’s face falls, and for a second Jin thinks the worst. His confidence is trampled as visions of Yamapi losing his composure flood the front of his mind, yelling and storming out, never to return again. Hating him.

Those visions disperse the next second, when Jin feels fingers prying his hands out of his lap. He watches Yamapi scrutinize his manicure, then meets the eyes that lift to look up at him through his bangs, without letting go.

A muffled squeal sounds from the doorway, and both Yamapi and Jin turn to look at the third person in the room, who’s covering her mouth with both hands and watching them with big, sympathetic eyes.

“Why is she here?” Yamapi whispers.

Jin hides a smile. “This was her idea.”

“Actually it was Kame’s idea,” Meisa corrects. “I just made him pretty.”

“You did well,” Yamapi says, using his professional voice. “You may leave now.”

Meisa politely bows her head, smirks at Jin, and second later the front door opens and closes once again. Jin feels a little uneasy without her, now facing this alone, the uncertainty of whether Yamapi will accept him (her) looming over him as he stares at the threads of his carpet and waits for the inevitable.

“I don’t know if I approve of Kame wanting you to be like this,” Yamapi finally says, a little grumpily, and Jin almost laughs.

“I don’t think it’s for his own pleasure,” Jin tells him, still not raising his eyes.

“Why, then?” Yamapi honestly sounds confused, and it makes Jin’s heart break. “Tell me, Jin.”

“I want to…” Jin starts, then trails off. The words are there on the tip of his tongue, but this time he can’t bring himself to say them.

“ _God_ , you’re beautiful,” Yamapi says suddenly.

Now Jin looks up, sees Yamapi staring incredulously at him, and recognizes the faint pink tint to his cheeks. He smiles (she’s pleased) and squeezes Yamapi’s hands for support. “I want to be with you.”

Yamapi breathes out a little too forcibly, like an unintended chuckle, but his face is free of amusement. “Jin,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to become a girl to be with me.”

“I… I don’t mind it,” Jin replies, shifting uneasily. “I kind of like it.”

Yamapi blinks, and for a second Jin thinks he’s going to make fun of him. “I kind of like it too.”

Jin closes his eyes shyly, a smile spreading on his face. He’s about to say something, maybe crack a joke to lighten the mood, but then his jaw is seized firmly and any words he might have had are stolen by Yamapi’s lips. Soft, plump, determined; Jin kisses back without hesitation, wrapping his arms around Yamapi’s neck and holding him close.

Yamapi’s hands slide down Jin’s back, over the silky material of his kimono to where the obi is ‘tied’ in the back. He chuckles against Jin’s lips when he learns that the bow just comes right off, and Jin considers retaliating until he realizes that Yamapi’s _undressing_ him and he probably shouldn’t interrupt.

Instead he lets Yamapi into his mouth, licking at his tongue and shivering with his whole body when he _feels_ more than hears Yamapi’s resulting groan. He helps unravel the obi from around his waist, his skin tingling for Yamapi’s touch that can’t come soon enough. His hands slide up into Yamapi’s hair and tug lightly, just enough to convey his impatience.

Yamapi chuckles again, but this time Jin ignores it in favor of the way Yamapi slowly pushes the kimono off of his shoulder, fingers trailing along his very sensitive collarbone. It heightens his arousal and leads him to kiss Yamapi harder, desperately, nearly pushing him over with the force of his wanting.

His point must be getting across because Yamapi immediately pulls them up, not entirely standing but enough to turn them around and maneuver them forward, until the backs of Jin’s knees hit his own mattress. It’s only awkward for as long as it takes Jin to scoot up his bed, but then he’s covered by Yamapi and he doesn’t know how he went this long without knowing how it feels to have Yamapi hard on top of him.

“Pi,” he whispers between kisses, earning a whine as Yamapi pulls back enough for him to speak. “Pi, I’m not a girl.”

“I know that,” is Yamapi’s gruff reply, “and I don’t care.”

Jin accepts that, or at least he has to as Yamapi claims his mouth again and gradually opens his kimono. All too soon he stops again, this time with no reluctance as he delicately removes the garment and folds it neatly next to them. Jin watches through his slightly clouded vision, sees the respect Yamapi has for their culture, and falls in love with him a little more.

The feeling only increases as Yamapi pulls his shirt over his head and pauses at his belt, eyes flicking towards Jin’s with a bashful smile. Jin thinks it’s cute and reaches down with both hands, pushing Yamapi’s out of the way as he unbuckles Yamapi’s belt and unfastens his pants himself.

He feels the evidence of his effect on Yamapi and fills with pride, which brings with it the courage to touch him and feel his weight in his palm. Yamapi’s deep groan is encouraging, as is the way he shudders when Jin strokes him from base to tip. Yamapi’s own fingers rest on Jin’s bare hip, their mere presence a tease and Jin wiggles pointedly, silently begging for the favor to be returned.

“Jin,” Yamapi hisses, interrupted by a choked moan as Jin swipes his thumb over the slit. “What are we doing?”

“Having sex?” Jin suggests, nudging Yamapi’s face with his nose until the other turns his head. “Or about to, I hope.”

“ _Jin_ ,” Yamapi says again, a kind of desperate whine that goes straight between Jin’s legs, right where Yamapi’s hand slowly migrates until Jin feels it around him and exhales in relief.

Yamapi kisses him _hard_ , his own sense of reality dwindling with each flick of Yamapi’s wrist. He knows what he has to do in order to finish this, what he needs to get and have done in order to be satisfied, to satisfy _her_ , but he can’t bear to pull away for even a second. It feels too good, hips rocking up into Yamapi’s hand as well as making Yamapi fall apart on top of him, even if all he can think of is how much _better_ it will be if they take it further.

“Pi,” Jin mumbles again, then thinks better of it. “Tomo.”

Slowly, Yamapi stops moving and lets Jin’s lips fall from his, lifting his eyes that are so filled with intensity that it would have knocked Jin over had he not been already laying down. He watches as Yamapi licks his lips thoughtfully, presumably considering the nickname while Jin’s heart beats loudly enough for them both to hear.

Then Yamapi nods and smiles, relaxing Jin considerably as he leans down enough to press their noses together. “Do you have… you know..?”

Jin can’t bring himself to look away, only point aimlessly at what he hopes is his nightstand drawer. “In there.”

It’s far enough for Yamapi to have to twist his body to reach, but he doesn’t let go of Jin. He must have mistaken Jin’s anxiety for nervousness and thought to distract him by stroking him faster, nearly bringing him to the edge before he returns with a condom and a small tube.

“I knew she was lying,” Yamapi whispers as he gently rubs the inside of Jin’s thigh, urging them to open. “You would never run out of condoms.”

Jin gives a short laugh. _Now_ he’s nervous, now that he’s open and vulnerable and about to be touched somewhere he’s never been before, but at the same time he wants nothing more than to know how it feels to have Yamapi hard inside him, making love to him.

He gasps when cool, slick fingers tentatively rub behind his balls and continue down. Yamapi’s face is in his neck, planting soothing kisses wherever he can reach and it helps, his legs spreading as far as he can manage as he forces himself to relax. He feels the first finger go in and takes a deep breath; it’s not so bad, not with Yamapi moving against him with pants of hot air on his neck.

His body adjusts naturally, and he spends a second wondering if _she_ has anything to do with that before it starts to feel good, really good. Yamapi’s finger is joined with another and rubbing against something inside him that has him squirming, moaning, arching for more.

“Jin,” Yamapi whispers, and Jin cherishes the sound of his name in that tone. It’s hasty, involuntary, spoken like Yamapi would explode if he couldn’t get it out, penetrating him with his voice as well as his hands.

“Hurry,” Jin replies, unable to think of anything else except Yamapi inside him, hearing his own name emphasized by each thrust. “Tomo,” he adds roughly.

A third finger works its way in and any propriety Jin has left dissolves into nothing. He clutches onto Yamapi’s shoulders, his lower half rocking against the intrusion and these dirty, _dirty_ moans erupting from his lungs. “Fuck me,” he whispers, begs, his volume rising as Yamapi’s fingers graze that spot again. “Fuck me, Tomo.”

For a second he actually doesn’t think Yamapi is going to do it. At least not right away, not judging by the way he stretches him more purposefully and leans up to kiss him on the mouth. It’s short, sweet, lingering with staggered breaths warming his cheek, not at all like someone who is rushing to get off.

“I love you,” Yamapi says. “I always have.”

The words barely register in Jin’s mind before the fingers are gone and something much bigger is testing his resistance.

Jin wants to say it back, and mean it, no matter what side of him it comes from because they’re both still _him_ , but it’s not reluctance that keeps him from speaking so much as his ability to form words being temporarily hindered. It should hurt, he expects it to hurt, but it doesn’t even though he can feel it from the tips of his toes up to his scalp. Yamapi’s _inside_ him and it feels right, like an itch that he didn’t even know he had was being scratched in the form of them uniting, coupled with the way Yamapi’s hands tighten on his hips and the soft groan that sounds from his lips as he abruptly bottoms out.

His eyes fly open and he looks down at Jin, concerned, but Jin’s reaching up to push Yamapi’s sweaty hair out of his face with a smile that couldn’t possibly be construed as pain. Yamapi lets out a short, incredulous laugh that has Jin feeling more at ease, enough for him to roll his hips and moan at the way his body takes Yamapi in deeper.

All amusement ceases from Yamapi’s face at that, followed by a deep breath that Jin feels the result of as they start moving. His body rocks by a force other than his own, his fingers digging into Yamapi’s forearms for some kind of purchase as he becomes overwhelmed with the increasing pressure.

More than anything Jin wants to close his eyes, to just _feel_ and lose himself, but Yamapi’s still staring down at him through the narrow slits in his eyelids and Jin wants to keep it up, just another connection between them. Yamapi’s words ring in his mind as they join together over and over, as they _make love_ , and Jin finally realizes what the stress in his belly had been.

The butterflies stir yet again as he looks up at Yamapi, watches him bite his bottom lip as he clearly struggles to keep his eyes focused, the muscles of his chest shining as he thrusts in and out.

“I love you too,” he manages to get out, pulling his knees up to get even more depth. “I love you so much, I want to be with you forever.”

It’s too much and he’s berating himself for succumbing even to womanly emotions, but Yamapi doesn’t seem to be bothered and severs their eye contact with a flick of his wrist, Jin’s head hitting the mattress as his back arches as far as it can. Yamapi’s hand flies up and down his cock at the same pace that he’s pushing in and out of him with a little more force, Jin’s body tightening around him as he once again comes dangerously close to reaching his peak.

This time Yamapi doesn’t stop and Jin squeaks out some semblance of a warning, although he’s certain that Yamapi can tell with the way he’s groaning with every exhale. Then Jin hears his name escape in a gasp and he’s gone, coming with his whole body and shuddering before he knows nothing else but Yamapi and love.

It’s _never_ been like that before, and Jin could kick himself for not doing this sooner. As it is he doesn’t think he can lift his own head, let alone his leg, even if he finds himself unfolded by the time he’s remotely coherent again. “Pi,” he breathes, reaching out with a weak arm.

“I’m right here,” Yamapi says from beside the bed, not nearly close enough despite returning with a warm washcloth. “You okay?”

Jin nods, slowly opening his eyes to focus on a pink-faced Yamapi, _his_ Yamapi, and he feels the now familiar push of _her_ to stake his claim. “I am now,” he says, his heart swelling even more as Yamapi cleans him up and rubs his sore inner thighs.

“Jin,” Yamapi says seriously. “Are you sure you want to be like this?”

“Yes,” Jin says firmly, lifting both arms to pull Yamapi down to him. He hugs him tightly, inhales the distinct scent of his shampoo and feels Yamapi bite his lip and make a choked noise against his shoulder.

Right now Jin isn’t sure _who’s_ inside his head, the Jin he’s always been or the one he named Jinnifer who just surfaced today, but he figures as long as they both love Yamapi it will be all right.

Even if it was Yamapi who brought her out to begin with.


End file.
